


Strangers in the Night

by scandalsavage



Series: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge [17]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Somnophilia, Spitroasting, Surprise Sex, Switching, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Of all the people Deathstroke ever expected to end up in bed with, Batman would have been one of the last. Especially given his history with the various batboys.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Series: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1407088
Comments: 12
Kudos: 221
Collections: DCU Rarepair Exchange 2020, Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge





	Strangers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuro49](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/gifts).



> All of your options were so good!!!!!!!!!!! It was very difficult to choose one! ~~I was going to try to weave them all together but I ran out of time~~

The first time it happened was a mistake. The second, a fluke. The third, a coincidence. The fourth, an accident. The fifth, a bad idea. And so on.

Until eventually they accepted that it was just... going to keep happening. 

Of all the people Deathstroke ever expected to end up in bed with, Batman would have been one of the last. Especially given his history with the various bat _boys_.

Still, he finds himself bypassing the manor's elaborate security and slipping in through the huge, paned window of the master bedroom. The large lump of black satin doesn't stir, just continues the slow, steady rise and fall of sleepful breathing. Slade moves as silently as anyone in their line of work. It always gives him a thrill, sneaking up on the Bat. 

As he creeps closer, he finds the sheet has been kicked low, draping tantalizingly over the thick curve of his thigh, exposing the equally enticing plump ass. 

Slade doesn't know how unrelated people can share _ass_ ets like that but all the bats have infuriatingly perfect backsides that he just wants to sink his teeth into. 

He moves slowly, silent as a shadow. The prize if he pulls this off... well, he doesn't know what it will be; neither of them really expected the other to succeed, so all they have is a vague bet. Whoever can penetrate the other without waking them wins. 

Bruce's words. Always so... clinical. 

Slade will never admit he likes it. That the Bat's "dirty talk" sounds ripped from the pages of a medical textbook or high school sex-ed class. 

It does feel a little... sleazy... slinking through the dark bedroom with his pants undone, cock already out, packet of lube opened. Bruce would have heard the zipper or the crinkle of the foil and Slade would lose. As it is, Bruce's breathing stays even and deep. His heart beats in a slow, steady rhythm. Slade leans around to peek at Bruce's face, smoothed in slumber, eyes darting behind his lids as he dreams. Not faking. Good.

Getting on the bed is the hard part. Fortunately, the mattress is firm and seems to absorb motion. The ones in those stupid commercials with someone jumping on the bed while a glass of red wine barely even jostles. 

But knowing Bruce Wayne, at least 10 times more expensive. 

Settling between Bruce's legs, Slade spreads the lube over his cock and contemplates how he's ever going to manage touching the man without waking him. Frankly, he wasn't really expecting to get this far.

He starts at Bruce's calves, ghosting his fingers up the silken black sheet that spills over legs worthy of Adonis or the gods themselves. Carefully, gradually applying pressure as he moves up past the edge of the fabric, over the thick meat of those thighs, finally reaching the warm soft swell of an ass that could make a man cry.

Slade freezes when Bruce makes a soft, contented hum. But the younger man just nuzzles his head into his pillow, shifts his hips into Slade's touch, and stays fast asleep. 

With a soft snort, Slade gingerly pries the cheeks of Bruce's ass apart as he sits up on his knees for a better angle. Bruce must be completely wiped out if he's—

Slade's brain comes to a screeching halt as he stares down at Bruce's hole, glistening in the moonlight streaming in from the window. 

Does Bruce _prep himself every night just in case Slade shows up???_

The groan that falls out of Slade's mouth without his permission is too loud. All Bruce does is sigh and sink further into the pillow. 

Biting his lip hard enough to actually feel pain, Slade presses the head of his cock to that fucking slick hole and watches as he slowly sinks past the tight clench of Bruce's rim into the warm, wet channel beyond.

Slade bites his lip harder, willing himself to not make a sound or give in to the urge to just push in to the hilt and go rough as usual. 

What he really wants is to savor this. Bruce sleepy, loose and pliable beneath him. Usually, they fuck like feral beasts, putting all their strength and aggression into it. It's very much another fight, as much as it's anything else. A much more enjoyable fight than one with fists, but still. They come out of it just as bruised and bloody. 

Not this time though. 

He's only halfway in when he has to pause and squeeze his eyes shut. It's overwhelming, the way Bruce is so open and soft when he's not awake to be an obstinate, fucking self-righteous prick. 

After an excruciating eternity that tests the bounds of Slade's patience, he finally bottoms out, hips flush against perky asscheeks. He moves his grip to Bruce's waist, pulls out to the head, slides back in. Bruce is so _wet_ inside. Feels like he does when Slade comes inside him and immediately starts another round. 

Keeping his rhythm slow and steady, just enjoying the calm change of pace, Slade presses his forehead to the massive spread of Bruce's shoulders and thinks he should maybe try this with—

Bruce shifts under him. Slade expects him to leap to alertness; zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye. He braces for it. But what he gets is a slight quickening of breath and heartbeat, a more purposeful nuzzle into the pillow that Slade will never admit is actually _cute_ for as long as he lives, a happy sigh and, as Slade prepares to be smug about winning their bet...

"Jason...?"

The name so thoroughly shocks Slade that he jerks back, hips slamming into Bruce with the full force of his enhanced strength. 

Bruce grunts and twists around. Slade recovers just in time to pin the younger man's wrists to the mattress so he can't wriggle away. 

"Slade?"

"First of all," he rumbles into Bruce's ear, trying to sound put out despite his very real interest, "as you may have noticed, I won our bet. Second of all, you just called me another man's name while I'm balls deep in your ass—your _son's_ name—you better prepare to pay out that bet big."

Bruce has the gall to snort at him. Then bucks his hips up so that Slade's dick slips impossibly deeper. 

"I admit, I'm impressed you were able to sneak up on me," Bruce smirks while Slade tries, unsuccessfully, to choke back a groan. "Even with the extenuating circumstances."

Slade gives in to the urge to let loose and rolls his hips in a few quick, powerful thrusts; Bruce sucks in a breath through his teeth.

"What extenuating circumstances?"

Right on fucking cue, bright, warm orange light floods the room in a comically cinematic rectangle cast over the bed. Bruce is already facing that direction and Slade doesn't miss the evil, impish grin on his face as his own head snaps to the bathroom door.

Jason Todd stands there, towel wrapped around his hips, hair damp and shaggy like he rubbed a towel over it, gaping, blinking as he processes the sight. Slade stares back for a moment before looking down at Bruce with a raised brow. He didn't actually expect Bruce to be fucking Jason. 

Suddenly the state he found Bruce in makes a lot more sense. Bruce didn't prep for _him_ and that _isn't_ all lube he feels deep inside the younger man.

"Uh... what the fuck is going on?" Jason manages to force out after a moment. He looks immensely uncomfortable, eyes flicking from Bruce to Slade... locking onto Slade's with an unmistakable glint of desperation. 

The grin Slade gives him makes the kid's expression fall. He's not going to get out of this that easily.

"Jason," Bruce starts, "Slade is—"

"You gonna stand there all night, kid, or join us?"

"Slade—" Bruce snaps. Like he disapproves. 

Slade just rolls his eyes. 

"Everyone in this room is fucking everyone else, Wayne," the mercenary taunts, leaning forward to nip at Bruce's ear. 

The billionaire is still pinned to the mattress by Slade's bulk but he cranes his head around to narrow his eyes up at him the best he can. Then looks back at Jason.

The kid has turned a telling crimson as he scowls at the floor. 

Of all the ways he expects Bruce to react to the news that Slade is also fucking his—well, not his son, Slade supposes, given the new information he has—protégé, laughing is not really up there. 

Batman laughing is disconcerting. Bruce Wayne laughing is always infuriatingly polite, rarely sincere. 

This isn't either of those. Bruce seems genuinely amused. And... _happy_. 

"Come over here, Jason," the older vigilante orders. Not quite Batman, but still firm and authoritative. 

Slade knows how much Jason likes that. 

Knows how much Bruce likes to pretend he doesn't also.

The kid gulps but does as he's told. When he gets to the bed, Bruce lifts, urging Slade to sit up. He makes sure he stays buried in Bruce's ass as they shift, Bruce getting to his hands and knees, reaching one hand out to take Jason by the forearm and guide him onto the bed in front of him. 

Bruce presses a sweet little kiss to the inside of Jason's wrist and Jason seems to gain a bit of confidence when he meets his mentor's eyes. Then Bruce uses his teeth to pull the towel off of the boy and immediately lick a stripe up his soft cock. 

Jason gasps, hands flying to Bruce's head and threading through his hair.

"Ah, youth," Slade hums, watching Jason's dick get hard so fast it must be painful.

With an agreeing chuckle, Bruce sucks the kid into his mouth and moans around him.

Groaning in return, Jason twists his fingers into the dark, silky strands of Bruce's hair and thrusts down his throat.

Slade gives the kid a bestial grin, reaches over the body between them, and yanks Jason to him by his own raven locks.

The boy's yelp is swallowed by the hungry press of Slade's lips over his mouth, tongue diving deep to get a good taste of him. 

And Bruce, apparently. He can taste Bruce on Jason's tongue.

"You should have told me about this before," Slade growls when he pulls away just far enough to speak, lips still brushing against lips. The kid's ragged panting moving over his face in soft, warm puffs.

Bruce, Jason, they're both so _pretty_ when he's ruining them.

He wishes he could see Bruce’s face, feel the way he’s swallowing and sucking around Jason’s cock. He does the next best thing.

With the grip he has in the kid's hair, Slade jerks his head back, mouths over the jut of his Adam's apple, before asking, "What's he feel like?" while he continues to roll his hips in purposeful strokes, rocking Bruce into his young protégé but not hard enough to risk him choking or biting down. He doesn't want to kill the mood. 

Jason's eyes are blown, pupils consuming the bright, fiery teal, and he moans, either at Slade's words or whatever clever thing Bruce does to him. Slade knows how talented Batman's tongue is when he puts it to better uses than pontification.

"Tight," Jason breathes, almost reverent with the soft way he says it, the way he curls over Bruce's form and holds his head close while he fucks his face. "Fuck, Slade, his throat... I'm down his fucking throat. He's... he's _fluttering_ around me."

Oh, Slade knows that feeling all too well. Bruce allows his inner walls to clench rhythmically, pulsing over Slade's cock like he's trying to milk him dry. 

"I... I'm not... not gonna last..." Jason gasps.

Sure enough, not a full minute later, the kid is squeaking in that adorably self-conscious way that Slade likes to tease him about when Jason is trying to hold out longer and Slade wrings his orgasm from him anyway. 

Bruce certainly looks smug, swallowing and wiping at his mouth, as Jason flops back against the headboard. Like he could tell Jason was trying to last and purposely pushed him over the edge anyway.

Then Bruce ruts back against Slade on an inward thrust and _squeezes_ down around him so hard Slade chokes. 

"Hurry up," Bruce growls, Batman seeping into his tone. "I'd like to get my dick wet too."

Slade snorts but picks up the pace. "Keep flexing around me like that then."

Bruce obliges. All that infamous muscle control on display, throbbing and pulling at Slade's cock. The slick feel of Jason's earlier release sliding around his length. Jason watching them, rumpled and hungry, dark eyes.

Slade grips Bruce's hips hard enough to bruise, buries himself as deep as he can get and grunts as he adds his own come to the mess inside the billionaire. 

Bruce only waits exactly as long as it takes for Slade to empty his balls, then he's pushing off of Slade, grabbing a surprised Jason's wrist again, only much more harshly, and flips their positions, dragging the kid onto his lap, back to chest, facing Slade.

He can't help but admire Bruce's stamina. Slade's enhancements mean he's already recovering and even though Bruce hasn't come yet, he did just get double-teamed. Most people would need a minute. 

But the billionaire just gives the mercenary a truly wicked smirk over the kid's shoulder as he pulls Jason's head to the side with one hand, the other slipping under Jason's balls to move between his legs, and starts sucking on the exposed expanse of his throat (already marked up, Slade notices, now that he has a minute to really examine the kid).

"You've been fucking Wilson, too?" Bruce asks with a sharp bite to Jason's earlobe, keeping his eyes on Slade's.

Jason opens his mouth to respond and whatever Bruce does between his legs makes him fucking _whimper_ instead. 

"What's the matter, _Robin?_ I'm not enough to satisfy that greedy little hole of yours?"

Both Slade and Jason shiver when Bruce throws out that name. Slade certainly likes to play with that when he's with Jason and he's not sure why he's surprised that Bruce does too—perhaps because it feels more intimate—but he is, in the best way. 

This time Slade sees Bruce's wrist twist before Jason cries out and sways forward. He catches the kid as Bruce uses the distraction to grab lube from thin air and smear some over his own, angry red erection. 

Slade nips at Jason's lips while Bruce lines up, following to drink down the happy sigh as the older vigilante pulls the younger down onto his cock. Then Bruce shifts their position slightly, reclining more, tipping Jason back against him. 

Sitting back on his haunches, Slade sees why.

"Such a little slut," Bruce rumbles, hands hooked under Jason's knees, pulling them open and back toward the headboard, giving Slade an unimpeded view of Bruce's thick cock slowly sliding in and out of the kid's ass. 

Slade has to take a moment to wrap his mind around the fact that Bruce _can_ dirty talk just fucking fine. Which means he's been purposely clinical when they've been together. The thought that Bruce has been fucking with him for months settles uncomfortably in the back of his mind for later. He'll have to pay the bastard back for that. 

Jason keeps making these breathless little _ah_ sounds every time Bruce bottoms out and Slade is already back at attention. He doesn't know how long he'll be able to just observe, as sexy as it is.

"Such a beautiful, perfect slut for me," Bruce says, pouring pride and desire into every word, tone dripping praise as he sucks bruises into every inch of Jason's skin he can reach. The kid just fucking melts for it, eyes glazing over, tension bleeding out of every single muscle as he rolls his hips to meet each of Bruce's thrusts. "Isn't he perfect, Slade?"

It takes a second to sink in, that Bruce is speaking to him, mesmerized as he is by the steady, deep drive of the man's cock into the very grown-up kid who used to run along in his shadow in hot pants, the flex of Jason's exceptional thighs as he bounces himself in Bruce's lap. 

"Yes," Slade answers when it does. "Perfect. Takes a cock so beautifully."

He leans in, grasping Jason's lolling head by his chin and stealing a slow, sloppy kiss. When they separate, Jason's head falls back onto Bruce's shoulder, half-lidded eyes watching Slade shift to capture Bruce's lips for another, filthy kiss as Slade presses his weight against him, forcing them all closer. 

"Maybe next time he can take two."

Jason moans, turns his head to lick absentmindedly at his mentor's throat. 

Bruce's eyes flick up to meet Slade's, even as his hips stutter. Those icy blue eyes flutter closed and his teeth sink into Jason's shoulder as he comes to the thought of his boy taking both of them. 

The two normal humans are panting, breath coming out in hot little huffs. Jason's head is tipped back on Bruce's shoulder. Kid is half hard again already. And Bruce just... stares at Slade like he wants to eat him. 

Slade grins back. He could go for that. He can go all night and all day after the sun rises. 

After just a moment, Jason rights himself and opens his eyes, glancing between Slade and Bruce before sharing a lingering look with his mentor that quickly morphs into something mischievous before they both turn twin smirks screaming trouble on him.

He can't say he's overly familiar with the feeling of being hunted. Even when people _are_ after him—which is often—he's always so many steps ahead of them that he's really the hunter. 

But being caught in the intensity of those matching gazes, all the focus of two extremely skilled, deadly men... Slade feels like prey. 

That's ok. 

He can go for that too.


End file.
